Transgressions of Youth
by MissClairol
Summary: Tim Drake struggles with the role of Robin, yearns for normalcy. He seeks Dick Grayson as a mentor and more... Slashy later chapters/boy-kissing and such.
1. Chapter 1

fTim's slung across the couch lazily, tired, worn from patrol and still in his uniform, even though he's only half dry. The rain's incessant out there and Tim's partly thinking about the TV and partly the way he used to consider rain when he was younger: if it was raining, you stayed inside, you stayed warm. But now, regardless of weather, patrol happened, _had_ to happen. Bruce would have it no other way. But sometimes Tim wishes there could just be a break. He was mentally exhausted though he'd never admit it; not to Bruce – certainly not – and probably not Dick either.

Half-heartedly, he flung the remote onto the coffee table and rubbed his eyes, realizing how tired he was and almost delusional because of the lack of sleep. And then the voice jarred him from his haze and he remembered: I'm at Dick's apartment.

"You gonna lay around all wet like that all night or what? Get yer ass up."

Tim sat up and immediately started peeling off the gauntlets, then ran his hands through semi-damp hair, rubbing at his scalp.

"Sorry; it was a rough evening."

"Assumed so, or else you wouldn't be here. If things go ok, you always go back to the manor."

"Yeah, I don't know; been having some… nevermind."

Tim has been having some issues though. He's feeling conflicted. On the one hand, he gives all he has, all of who he is, to Gotham. Because that's what he does, what they do. On the other, he feels that on a personal level, he gives none of his true self to anyone. And it's becoming a burden, a gnawing at his insides, like so many tiny razors rasping down his spine.

He reached down to unlatch his boots and get them off, which felt better than he could have imagined, considering the drying rainwater and sweat that had created a humid sort of discomfort.

"Alright, Tim, talk to me." Grayson implored, flopping into the adjacent armchair.

And he hesitated because even though he _knew_ Dick to the point of shared thoughts even, the battle within himself wasn't something even he understood. There was a yearning he felt, the desire to know normalcy, even if there was the sure knowing within his deepest darkest heart of hearts that "normal" was never something he has known or would know again.

"Nah, it's cool. Though, I could use something to eat." Dick immediately jumped up and headed for the kitchen. "Sandwich ok? It's all I got." Tim mumbled an affirmation and continued to take off the rest of his clothes, save the pants, and managed to pry himself from the couch and walk towards the kitchen. He leaned against the wall between the entry and the pass-through and waited for Dick.

"It's just that I feel pretty worn out, you know?" Tim said, feeling exasperated.

Dick uh-huh'd and continued piling meat upon cheese upon bread.

"It's just, when do you ever feel like you're living your life? Or is this it?"

Dick stopped his actions and actually thought on the moment, because he'd dealt with this emotion long ago, as had Bruce, and he knew in time, Tim would have to face it as well. With a sigh, he walked towards the doorway.

"I just want to know what the point is, aside from the obvious. I just want to feel…" Tim's throat closed up, like it tends to right before the tears come. He felt confused and ashamed. Dick recognized the sound and froze, putting the plate down and simply reached around the doorframe, settling a hand on Tim's shoulder. He let him cry, like that, with just his arm for reassurance, giving him the courtesy of not having to look at anyone while he worked through the emotions. To Grayson's surprise, Tim's fingers were pulling at his hand, moving it down from the shoulder, to his chest, clutching it, making Dick feel every chest-heaving sob, each gasp for breath. And he continued to pull until Dick had to come around and stand there, in front of him, hand still in the boy's grasp. He was overcome with the obligation to hold him, for he knew how hard it must be. Gathering the smaller boy in his arms, Dick held onto Tim for what seemed a long time until Tim pushed slightly away and looked up at his surrogate older brother, a man he trusted with every fiber of his being, and simply pleaded with his bright blue eyes.

Grayson placed a light kiss on the boy's forehead, for lack of anything else to do; he admitted to himself that this wasn't an altogether uncomfortable situation but he knew he had to be there for Tim. Though, he felt the boy's hand slowly creeping up the expanse of his back, tracing every muscle through the tight shirt he wore, finding each defined line as his hands slid further up, lightly touching the ends of his hair that fell at the nape of his neck.

"Tim…"

"Shh, just… no…"

Dick let him proceed, mind racing at what could, or would, happen next. When you know someone as well as they do each other, it almost seems logical to find yourself in a situation such as this. At least, at that moment – as the clocked ticked away the seconds of the hour, now nearing 3:30 AM – Dick felt like it was the most comfortable thing to have Tim's deft fingers working up through his hair, trailing down his cheek and across his lips, slight pressure: a question, a request.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want… I realize in times of

confusion –"

"No words, we don't need them." Tim said, a slight smile creeping across his face but a few remaining tears at the corners of his eyes. And he leaned up to capture Dick's mouth with a kind of desperation he wasn't even suspecting from the boy.

Dick responded and pressed further, allowing his arms to wrap around Tim's body again, pressing himself into the teen and reveling in the fact that he'd always wondered if this would happen.

Tim could feel his heart pounding in his chest and worried Dick would feel it too, and know his nervousness. He's imagined this scene for so long; he wanted to tell Dick how many times he'd fallen asleep to the fantasy of the two of them.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Ok, I know you said no words but…" Dick began, pushing a needy Tim away. A Tim who leaned into him hungrily, needing, almost without control the way he had to be near him, touch him. "…I think there need to be some ground rules."

"Rules? I'm sick of rules. Our lives are all about living within the confines of –" Robin waved his hand at something. "- all of this, all of Bruce's parameters!"

Dick laughed at Tim's honesty. He could also see the abandon in the boy's eyes; this life had gotten to him something fierce and there was a huge part of him that needed to just let go.

"True enough, Tim. But you know he's going to find out, one way or another, Bruce always knows."

"I don't care. Not at this point." Tim replied, caressing Dick's neck again and allowing his hand to work further back down the man's sculpted back until it rested right above his ass. Dick's breath hitched and he looked down at Tim with a sort of chastising glare. "We're going to be in so much trouble." But the corners of his mouth turned up into a devious grin as he delved into another breathtaking kiss with the boy he'd so long wanted to ravish.

In a mere second, the younger man had removed his pants and was yanking up on Dick's shirt; up and over his head before swift and deft fingers found their way to a button and a zipper, allowing him to rid Dick of what he was already without possession. They found each others' lips again, connecting in hurried and eager intervals, panting between words. "Wanted this… for so long…" Tim spat out, allowing his hands to flitter over the planes of Dick's stomach, his chest, so muscled and strong that Tim nearly whimpered with wish fulfillment. He drank in the sight of his mentor, his brother for all intents and purposes, and pretty much said 'fuck it' before dropping his hands lower than he had dared to venture before.

"Please tell me I'm your first, Tim. Kind of always wanted to be." Dick said, giving him yet another amazing smile, blue eyes sparkling.

"First." Tim confirmed. Delicately, he took the older man's cock in his hand, giving him a quick stroke before Dick was working him in turn, eliciting a rather feral growl from the boy. "Bedroom." Dick instructed, tugging at the boy's shoulders to comply. They fell, haphazardly, to the bed, engaging in another kiss, heated and wet.

"First guy or first in general?" Dick had to ask, still kissing Tim, leaving him little opportunity to answer. Not that Tim minded; not with _Nightwing's_ hands all over him, the heat emanating from the man driving him wild with desire.

"First to do this. There have been some instances but… not what I wanted. Too… wrong. This? Feels…" Tim looked almost pained; the questioned had stirred something within him, somewhat killing the passion for a moment.

"I know." Dick pressed a finger to the boy's lips and pressed him back against the sheets, looking down at him, conveying in one mere expression what he intended to do to him, for him.


End file.
